Trick or Treat
by Maxiekat
Summary: It's Halloween and Jack is dressed up and ready to go out, but Bobby tells him that thirteen is way too old to go trick or treating. He has an alternative, but it could prove to be too scary for Jack and his friends. "Don't say I didn't warn you …"
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - This is just a short story I had a urge to write and it will probably wind up being two or three chapters long. It's connected to_ Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk_ and takes place during the same timeline as the flashbacks in that story. I hope you enjoy it!_

Note: I don't own _Four Brothers_ or _Thriller _by Michael Jackson

**Trick or Treat**

**Chapter 1  
**

_It's close to midnight _

_and something evil's lurking in the dark_

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" Bobby was sitting on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table and an orange bucket full of candy on his lap – a bucket he was rifling through and pulling all the Kit Kats out of.

"Are you stealing Halloween candy?"

Bobby shrugged and held out the bowl. "Want some?"

Jack looked over his shoulder to make sure Evelyn wasn't in the room and rushed over, blindly grabbing a handful and dropping it into the old pillowcase he was carrying instead of a plastic bag. That was a tip that Jerry had passed on – plastic always, no matter what, broke and carrying a plastic pumpkin was for little kids and losers.

"So what are ya supposed to be? Can't tell without the fairy wings."

Jack rolled his eyes and glanced down at the costume Evelyn had helped him make; well, the costume he'd started to help Evelyn make and she finished it up for him after he got bored ten minutes into the project. She'd sewn white felt bones onto old black sweats and it turned out pretty cool. Just to make it more badass, he'd thrown his leather jacket over it and in the pillowcase he had a plastic skull mask they'd found at the drugstore. He figured he'd wear that for a house or two before he got tired of listening to himself breath and claustrophobia got the better of him.

Shrugging, he said, "I dunno. Elvis. Morrison. Hendrix. Take your pick." He looked at his brother and his hockey jersey and narrowed his eyes. "Is that a costume?"

Bobby grinned as he tore open the wrapper on a candy bar, letting it drift to the floor with the rest of the wrappers that were littering the carpet. "Figured I'd give the kids a thrill – get their candy from the Michigan Mauler. Shit, maybe I should give 'em my autograph instead of candy. What do ya think, Jackipoo? Think they'd like that?"

"Sure, they'd be thrilled."

Taking a bite out of the Kit Kat, Bobby leaned back with a triumphant look on his face. "Damn straight, kid."

"Yeah, and it would only take Ma about a month to get all the toilet paper out of the trees and the eggs washed off the siding," Jack said as he ducked the handful of candy Bobby chucked at his head. He took a seat in the recliner on the opposite side of the room, not out of the range of fire, but he figured he could take his chances.

"Aren't you too old to go trick-or-treating?" Bobby mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate. "I stopped that shit when I was ten."

Jack felt his face grow a little hot – he had been wondering the same thing, but Steve had talked him into it. "Lots of guys are going. It's not like there's anything else to do around here."

Bobby laughed. "Man, you just ain't lookin' in the right places. I wasn't sitting at home twiddling my thumbs on Halloween night when I was thirteen, that was for damn sure; but I also didn't dress up like some fucking Smurf and go begging door to door."

"What the hell is a Smurf?"

"Whatever. My point is, there's plenty to do tonight that doesn't include knocking over five year old girls to get to the Twizzlers."

Jack started fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket, zipping it up and down over and over again as he worked his brother's words around in his brain. He realized Bobby was right - trick-or-treating was for little kids and wusses like band geeks and the nerds who got excited about comic books and Saturday morning cartoons. Free candy wasn't worth being lumped in with them come Monday morning when they were all back at school.

"Fine," he said finally. "What do you suggest?"

Bobby squinted at him and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You goin' to Steve's?" he asked and Jack nodded.

"Hmm … that's down on Highland?" Jack nodded again and Bobby shook his head. "Nah, that's too intense for you guys. You'd shit your pants just thinking about it, fairy like you."

"Bobby --" Jack protested.

Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, Bobby got a dead serious look on his face. "Don't say I didn't warn you …"

XxXxXxXxXx

"No, Jack, we can't. I don't care what your brother said." Steve was sliding his sword back into his holster, or whatever you called that thing - Jack was only half listening when Steve described his costume in detail, right down to the authentic medieval underwear he had no luck finding at the mall. So Steve was currently wearing historically inaccurate boxers and Jack wasn't even trying to act like he gave a shit. His best friend was decked out, head to toe, as the fifth knight in the realm of whateverinthehell game it was that he played on Friday nights that had twenty sided dice and made him say "forsooth" with a stupid accent. Jack was beginning to think he was hanging around with one of those nerds he had been trying so hard to avoid.

They were walking up the driveway of the next house as Steve continued his argument against Bobby's suggestion for making their night less than embarrassing and lame. "I know you think he's wicked and all that, but sometimes your brother can be an asshole."

"You just don't like him because he gave you that wedgie once."

"Twice."

"Whatever, man. It was funny."

"Sure, it was funny for you because you weren't the one hanging in the air on the coat rack." Steve went to kick a stone on the ground but succeeded in tripping over it instead.

Jack grinned. Even though it had happened well over a year ago, back when he had starting hanging around Steve, the memory was still fresh in his mind of his friend dangling at the bottom of the stairs as his feet spun in the air like a Road Runner cartoon. Evelyn made Bobby take him down and apologize but Steve never forgave him for it, especially when he felt the need to give an encore performance of it for Jerry and Angel.

"Look, Mercer, we're at your girlfriend's."

"I don't have a --" Before he could finish his statement, the door opened and a familiar face was standing on the other side of it. "Oh hi, Kathy," he muttered.

"Hi, Jack," she said, holding a bowl full of candy. She was wearing a crooked wig with pigtails and a familiar looking blue plaid dress. "Dorothy," she offered when she noticed Jack was looking at her clothes. She blew out a puff of air and sighed. "My mom makes me dress up to hand out the candy."

"Oh," Jack offered lamely. "Cool?"

"Not really." She pulled at the skirt and grimaced. "I hate costumes."

"You look cute," he said suddenly, not sure where that came from. She blushed and stammered a bit, pushing her clunky glasses back up on the bridge of her nose. He suddenly felt guilty, which was just stupid because why should he feel guilty for offering a girl a compliment?

"Yeah, uh, cute," Steve felt the need to add in a monotone and Jack mentally slapped him across the back of the head.

Jack rocked back on his heels and looked around. The driveway was suspiciously empty and he hadn't heard anyone talking or anything inside the house. Hell, as far as he could tell, there wasn't even a TV on. "Your parents home?" he asked and Kathy bit her bottom lip.

"Um …" she started.

"They aren't, are they?" He really should look into becoming a detective, he thought to himself. Sometimes he amazed even himself.

"Jack … you guys can't come in."

He took at step forward and leaned against the doorjamb, letting the pillow case full of candy swing against his leg. "We can't come in, but how about you come out? Hang with us, it'll be fun. Sure beats handing out candy all night and --" He looked over her shoulder. There was book on the steps behind her. "Are you reading?"

"Maybe."

He squinted, barely making out the title. "_Pride and Prejudice_," he read outloud.

"Why would you want to read that?" Steve said, his mouth hanging open in shock. "It doesn't even have any zombies in it."

Ignoring his friend, Jack persisted, not sure why, but he was determined to get her to leave that house even if it meant prying her out of the doorway with a crowbar. "Come on. The book ain't goin' anywhere but you only get one chance in a lifetime to go trick-or-treating with the ghost of Elvis and his sidekick, Sir Lame-a-lot."

"Hey," Steve protested but Jack's glare shut him up. Kathy hadn't said no, so there was still a chance and he didn't want Steve to say anything stupid to screw it up.

She was biting her nails as she glanced at her watch, the driveway and down the street. He'd never seen anyone so obviously think things over in their mind before – he could practically follow the silent conversation just by watching her eyes and the way her nose scrunched up sometimes. She was wavering and he'd lay down good money that she was going to say –

"Okay, I'll go."

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack walked down the street, flanked by Dorothy and King Arthur and he was bored out of his mind. "This is dumb."

"We know. You've said it a hundred times." Steve sighed, swiping the air with his cardboard sword, vanquishing some unseen enemy.

"Well it is. Dumb and lame," Jack complained.

"A hundred and one times," Steve said under his breath.

"The house is just two streets over. We can take a look at it and if it looks too scary or hardcore, we can just keep on walking. No sweat, right?" Jack had decided to wear his skull mask on the back of his head, the rubber band digging into his forehead. He thought about walking backwards to complete the illusion, but he walked straight into a pothole when he tried it.

"Well, lookee here," a loud voice cackled out behind them. "I always thought Dorothy was the one in the dress, not Toto. Guess you learn something new every day." The statement was followed by a chorus of hard edged laughter and Jack glanced over at Kathy. Even in the darkness he could tell she'd grown paler and he took a step closer to her.

He could hear heavy footsteps on the pavement behind them and soon they were joined by three boys – Matt Wilcox and his cronies.

Matt reached out and pulled on one of Kathy's pigtails and Jack jabbed his arm back, catching the jerk in the ribs with his elbow. "Relax, Mercer, just having a little fun."

"Go to hell, asshole."

"Oh, now I'm scared," Matt said in a sing-song voice that grated across Jack's nerves.

Jack stopped suddenly and whirled around. "Just back the fuck off," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Ooh – the mutt is defending his bitch. I know all about you, Mercer. Your mommy got you from the pound." That made Matt's buddies laugh even harder, and Jack made a fist, ready to swing and take on all three guys by himself if he had to – figuring Steve and his cardboard sword weren't going to be worth shit in a fight.

Just as he pulled his arm back, red and blue lights flashed, breaking through the darkness and temporarily blinding him. "Jack," Kathy cried out, grabbing onto his arm to keep him from throwing that first punch.

He squinted into the headlights that were now pointed in their direction. Matt was frozen in place, but his friends were slowly backing up. The car door opened and a figure stepped into the light, the stance a familiar one that most kids in Detroit knew all too well. Cop. Didn't matter who or why – all that mattered was that it was a cop.

"Everything okay over here?" The shadowy figure spoke and Jack felt his shoulders sag in relief. He knew that voice. Lieutenant Green was more or less a friend of the family – more of a friend when it came to pick-up games and the occasional Sunday dinner, and less of one when it came to Evelyn stopping by the police station to bail out one of his brothers for getting caught doing something stupid.

The other door opened and his partner joined him. "Don't worry, Brown, I got this." Green waved his hand behind him, keeping his partner back. "Jack, is that you?"

"Yes, sir," he said as confidently as he could. He kind of liked Green – he seemed like a good guy, but it was hard to get past that badge.

"You kids aren't thinking of starting a fight or anything like that, now are you?"

"Never, sir," Steve supplied and Green chuckled.

"That's what I figured, but I just had to make sure." He took a step forward and looked Matt up and down. "I don't think I know you. You got a name?"

"M-Matt," he stammered, his face white as a sheet in the headlight.

"Well, Matt, I know how things can get on a night like tonight. Get all caught up in the excitement; maybe want to cause some trouble. But we both know that's a bad idea, right Matt?"

"Right, um, officer," Matt managed to say and Jack had a vision of him wetting his pants right then and there and he had to bite back a grin. It never failed – bullies always cowered when someone was bigger than them and you didn't get much bigger than a cop with a gun and a steady gaze and a calm voice.

Green nodded. "Have fun and head on home soon," he said as he walked back to his car. "I mean that, Jack – don't go pulling any Bobby Mercer stunts."

"Nothing to worry about, Green."

Green laughed again. "Yeah, where have I heard that before?"

The car pulled away and Matt stayed in place, his face a mix of humiliation and anger. "I should pound you right here, Mercer."

"Try it," Jack said, trying to sound tough. "Your backup is running away, though. Maybe you should go catch them?" He pointed down the street and Matt turned to look. His two friends were a block away and moving fast.

Matt took a step toward him, his jaw clenched. "You got --"

"I know - lucky. Whatever, man."

Matt disappeared into the darkness, hurling a string of curse words and insults back at them. Jack, Kathy and Steve all let out a collective sigh of relief. "Wow," was all Steve could say.

"Shit," Jack supplied, his hands suddenly shaking. He pulled a cigarette out of his jacket.

"Close one? Is that the saying?" Kathy said with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, that's the saying," Jack muttered around the cigarette as he lit it. The three of them walked in silence for a few minutes, not really feeling much like going up to any of the houses that were still lit to beg for candy.

"I'm going to that house Bobby told me about, whether you guys are coming or not," Jack announced suddenly.

"What if it's really haunted?" Kathy asked, reaching out to grab his arm.

He finished his cigarette and dropped it on the pavement, grinding it out under his sneaker. "Look, we've almost been beaten up and nearly arrested, what else could go wrong?"


	2. Chapter 2

Note: I don't own _Four Brothers_ or the_ Ghostbusters Theme_ by Ray Parker Jr.

**Chapter Two**

_I ain't afraid of no ghosts_

"It was a dark and stormy night …"

"Shut up, Steve," Jack said, swinging his bag of candy at his friend but only clipping his knee because he jumped out of the way.

"Three unsuspecting kids made their way down the deserted street."

Jack looked over at a group of trick-or-treaters walking on the opposite side of the road. Darth Vader and three green Power Rangers. "Yeah, real deserted, man."

"What horrible fate awaited them at the end of their journey?" Steve continued, his voice deep and dark. "Who would make it out alive?"

"Everyone knows the dorky best friend gets it first." Jack pushed Steve's shoulder, making him stumble on the cracked sidewalk. Something howled in the distance and he heard Kathy's breath hitch in her throat. Popping his collar, he tried to keep the chill out, blaming the wind for the sudden shiver that ran down his spine.

"Jack, maybe we should go back." Kathy moved closer to him, her hand brushing his.

He looked over at her. Her eyes were wide and she looked nervous as hell. "Don't listen to him, Kathy. He's just being a dumbass." He tried to sound confident, but the full moon had disappeared behind some clouds and it was almost pitch black out and he realized his flashlight wasn't as bright as he hoped. The wind picked up and dead leaves stirred on the decaying street, brushing against the abandoned cars that lined the curb. He'd have to thank his brother for sending him to such a nice neighborhood the next time he saw him.

"Don't worry, Dorothy, the damsel in distress always lives in the end," Steve offered helpfully and Jack punched him in the arm. "Ow, Mercer, I'm just joking around."

"It ain't funny."

Kathy grabbed his jacket and tugged hard, stopping him in his tracks. "Jack," she said in a hushed whisper.

"What?"

She didn't answer, just pointed. He followed the line of her arm, his gaze taking him past her shaking finger and up to the overgrown yard, framed by a rusted iron fence and imposing gate. Rising up in front of them like a monster from the depths of hell, it was exactly as Bobby had described it.

If there was such a thing as haunted houses, they were looking right at one.

XxXxXxXxXx

"Trick or treat!"

Bobby stared down at the group of kids. Five of them. Mostly girls in frilly princess dresses. One boy was in the back, wearing a saggy Spiderman costume that had seen better days and probably came from an older brother or the Goodwill. He felt for that kid, trapped in a sea of pink lace while in droopy-assed pants.

"Trick or treat!" one little girl yelled again and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Trick," he said evenly, picking out a piece of candy from the bowl he was holding and studying the orange wrapper.

The kids stared at him, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Spidey looked like he was smiling and Bobby was starting to like the kid, like they had bonded over all the estrogen that was flooding the front porch.

"Trick or --" the little brat started again.

"Treat. Yeah, I heard ya the first two times. You asked and I chose. Trick." He slowly opened the wrapper and popped the peanut butter cup into his mouth, moaning dramatically as the chocolate melted on his tongue. "And it's gotta be a hell of a trick. This shit is the good stuff."

"You can't say 'shit'," one of the kids from the back said.

"Tough, I just did."

"Your mom is going to wash your mouth out with soap." The third little princess from the right stamped her foot and scowled at him.

He snorted a laugh. "No she ain't."

"Is that a costume?"

Bobby stepped back so that they could get a better view. "Yep," he said proudly.

Spidey craned to look and Bobby grinned. "Hey, I know who you're supposed to be," the kid announced. Bobby knew the kid was cool.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. My dad gets mad whenever Number 24 gets put in a game. He threw something at the TV the last time." Okay, maybe not so cool.

"Yeah, well your dad sounds like he doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about." He was about to tell the kids to scram when something caught him across the back of his head, smacking him hard and causing him to bite down on his tongue.

"Bobby Mercer," Evelyn hissed in his ear. "Apologize."

"Ma, no way I'm gonna --"

She looked at him in the eye, steady and unwavering. He suddenly felt like he was a kid again and she'd caught him lighting matches in the backyard.

"Fine." He turned and quickly dropped a piece of candy in each bag, purposely missing Spiderman's bag so that he'd have to pick it up off the ground. "Whatever. Sorry. Merry fucking Halloween."

He shut the door and turned around, not surprised to see Evelyn was still standing there, her hand out. He hand her the bowl of candy and shrugged. "Done handing out candy?"

She shook her head and made that tsking sound he knew all too well. "Done handing out candy," she repeated back to him, twisting up her mouth in that way he used to think meant she was really pissed; but when he got older, he realized she was just trying not to laugh.

He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Love you, Ma. Angel still upstairs?" he asked, bounding up the stairs before she had a chance to answer.

"Angel," he bellowed down the hallway. "Get your ass in gear. I got somethin' for us to do."

Angel stumbled out of his room in what Bobby hoped was a costume - Ray-Ban sunglasses on, decked out head to toe in some sort of flowy, shiny, satiny shit, the crotch of his pants hanging down to his knees. Bobby grimaced. "What the …"

"What do you want, Bobby? I got plans tonight."

"Do they pay by the hour?" He wracked his brain, trying to figure out why his brother was dressed like Diana Ross's gay twin brother.

"Fuck you, Bobby," Angel said as he adjusted the neck of his blue shirt, the material fluttering over his chest. "I spent a long time on this costume to get is just right. Sofi loves MC Hammer and I don't want to disappoint."

"You dressed like that for a chick?" Bobby shook his head, his heart heavy with disappointment. "Man, I gotta sit you down and tell you about the birds and the bees and how to get laid without making an ass out of yourself."

Angel opened his mouth to protest but Bobby waived his hand, cutting him off. "Look, call Gladys Knight and let her know she needs to find a replacement Pip tonight. We got shit to do and I don't need you sparkling like a fucking disco ball. Get changed and meet me outside in five. We're gonna pick up Jerry on the way."

"I ain't a kid anymore; you can't boss me around," Angel argued at the empty doorway. His older brother had already left – the argument over before it had even had a chance to start. Angel sighed dramatically. Sofi was not going to be happy and his ears were ringing just thinking about it.

XxXxXxXxXx

The rotten wood beneath his sneaker creaked, threatening to give way. He took a deep breath and carefully shifted his weight to his other foot, but that creaked too.

"Uh … Jack …" Steve started.

"Shh." Jack reached out and grabbed the ancient wrought iron railing that flanked the stairs. It wobbled a bit, but didn't collapse under his grip; he figured that was a good sign.

"Ma-maybe Kathy was right." Steve's voice was shaking so much his teeth were libel to shimmy right out of his head. "We should just g-go home."

"Chicken?"

"N-no. I'm not chicken. But … well … this place looks a bit …"

"Night of the Living Dead," Kathy whispered and both boys turned around to look at her in shock. She nervously pulled on her cardigan and blushed. "What? My dad likes to watch old horror movies on Sundays."

The wind picked up and the iron gate that stood behind them swung shut with a loud clang. All three of them jumped and someone let out a high pitched scream. It sounded like Kathy, but Jack had a feeling it might have been Steve.

"Just the wind," Jack said, swallowing heavily. The weight of the flashlight felt reassuring in his hand, even if the shaking beam gave away just how nervous he was. Together, the three of them took another step, the heavy oak door only a few feet away. Steve pulled out his cardboard sword and Jack gave him a sidelong glance.

"Dude," he said under his breath. "Seriously?"

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack propped open the door with a brick he found, not taking any chances on it shutting behind them.

It had only taken a couple of minutes for him to jimmy the ancient lock, a skill Angel had taught him as a way to break the ice when he moved in with them. Bobby taught him how to fight, Angel taught him how to steal, and Jerry helped him with his math homework – all in all, he had a lot to thank his brothers for.

The light from his flashlight cast shadows all over the room they were standing in. Towering bookcases lined the walls and it looked like a lot of the shelves had collapsed onto one another, scattering books everywhere. The windows were boarded up and the old, white curtains stirred in the wind that whistled through the broken glass.

Kathy was standing so close to him he could practically hear her heart beating. He dropped his candy on the floor and reached out and took her hand in his. It was cold and clammy and he felt a twinge of guilt at dragging her into a haunted house when all she wanted to do was sit at home and read about boring chicks who wore big dresses and drooled over guys with weird sideburns and bad hats.

Steve spun around, the tinfoil covering the blade of his sword catching the beam from the flashlight, bouncing it off into a dozen directions. "What was that?" he asked nervously.

"What was what?" Jack and Kathy whispered back at the same time.

Steve jumped again. "That."

Jack strained to listen, hearing nothing but the wind and the branches brushing up against the siding. "I don't hear anything."

"Yes you do. You just won't admit this was a bad idea."

"Bobby said --"

"I don't care what Bobby said. He probably killed whoever's haunting this place and buried the body in the root cellar or something."

Jack sighed. "That doesn't even make any sense."

"Does your brother ever make any sense?" Steve jabbed his sword at him, poking him in the chest, hitting right where the ribs sewn onto his sweatshirt met over his heart.

Jack pushed the flimsy weapon away. "What I meant was this place probably doesn't even have a root cellar."

"That's not funny," Steve said.

"It was a little funny," Kathy said and Jack grinned, squeezing her hand.

Jack glanced around the room, taking in all the little details. A staircase leading to the second floor was behind them, several of the steps smashed and disintegrated. Empty spots on the wall, a lighter shade than the stained wallpaper, marked where paintings used to hang. And old couch and chair covered up with sheets that were in turn covered up by a layer of dirt and grime. There was dust on everything and cobwebs that were bigger than any cobwebs he had ever seen before were draped from every corner of the room. Creepy as hell, sure; but it was all a bit underwhelming. Jack wasn't sure what he'd been expecting – but old books and cobwebs didn't exactly fill the "shit your pants" warning Bobby had given him earlier.

"Let's make a deal, guys. We'll look around for another five minutes, ten tops and then head on home. Fair enough?"

Kathy was chewing on her bottom lip, her pigtails leaning a little to the left because her wig was crooked. Steve was pacing, swinging at the clouds of dust his shoes were stirring up.

"Deal?" Jack asked again and Steve sighed. He knew he'd give in – Steve always gave in and this was too much like one of his stupid Dungeons and Dragons games for him to pass on it.

"Fine, Jack. Deal. But you owe us, you owe us big. Right, Kathy?"

Kathy nodded and Jack grinned. Just then, something groaned and creaked in the ceiling above them.

"Uh, guys … you heard that, right?" Steve asked.

"Wind," Kathy said, her voice trembling.

"Yeah." Jack tried his best to sound confident. "It was the wind."

It creaked again and they all held their breath.

"Jack," Steve whispered, "I think the wind is headed for the stairs."


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I don't own _Four Brothers_ or _Poltergeist_

**Chapter 3**

_They're here_

Bobby couldn't hold back his grin as he let his car drift to a stop in front of the old house. He had the headlights off, not taking any chances on alerting Jack that they were there.

Angel let out a low whistle. "You think they're actually in there?"

"I bet you a million dollars Jack and Stan are in there right now, pissing their pants and crying for mommy." Bobby practically cackled. The house was creepy as shit, always had been. He could remember the stories and legends everyone would tell to freak each other out – the dares to go in and search for the ghost of old man Lane and his murdered wife. There was always the story about so-and-so's brother's friend's cousin's boyfriend who went into that house one night and never came out.

"Ma is not gonna be happy you sent them in there," Jerry said from the backseat, still annoyed that his date with Camille was cut short by his two brothers. He'd thrown a jacket on over his devil costume, not letting Bobby bully him into changing. He wanted this to be a quick in and out operation so that he could get back to Camille and the candles and the chocolate and the hot costume she'd greeted him at the door in. Should be a crime for a bunny rabbit to look that fine.

"Well, Ma doesn't need to know, now does she?" Bobby looked over his shoulder in disgust. "Jesus, Jerry take the damn stick out of your ass and have some fun with this. Little brothers exist so that we can torture them with shit like this."

"Yeah," Angel said, nodding his head, finally getting into it.

"Remember how we used to make Angel cry? Telling him ma donated his Transformers to charity but we blew them up in the backyard with some m-80's?" Bobby asked.

"Hey, I thought she gave them to the poor kids," Angel started to protest.

"Man, those were some good memories," Jerry said with a laugh.

Bobby opened his car door. "This is like a rite of passage. Toughen the kid up a bit." Just then a scream split through the night.

"I think that came from the house," Angel said.

A grin spread across Bobby's face. "I think you're right."

XxXxXxXxXx

"We're gonna die. We're gonna die. We're gonna die." Steve kept repeating it over and over again, clutching his cardboard sword in front of him like it was a cross and a vampire was out to suck their blood.

"We're not gonna die," Jack said, rubbing his ear, hoping to make it stop ringing. Steve screamed louder than any girl he knew and if he was lucky, he would be able to hear right again in about a month.

Steve jumped and yelped, waving his sword at the nothing. "What was that?"

"Your dignity."

Kathy tugged on his sleeve. She was a lot calmer than his best friend, but she was shaking so much Jack could feel the tremors though the rotted floorboards. "Jack, I think we should go."

Jack was one creepy floor creak away from throwing himself out a window, but he wasn't about to let them know that. "Fine." He threw up his hands. "You scaredy cats win, we'll go."

He pushed Steve's shoulder as he walked past him, toward the front hallway. "Man, you should have worried more about finding some matching medieval bra and panties than how cool your sword was."

The stairs loomed up behind him when he entered the foyer, the darkness swallowing them up like a hungry mouth. Jack only hesitated for a second, glancing up and he wished he hadn't. The light from his flashlight was a joke, barely illuminating the bottom stair. The rest was pitch black but something white stirred in that blackness, billowed, but only for a second.

"Shit," he said under his breath. _A sheet. Yep, a sheet. That's all that was. If he had a dime for every time a sheet randomly floated down the hallway at home he'd have … shit. _

Jack gave up making lameass excuses and hurried for the door. The door he'd left propped open with a heavy brick. The door he'd left propped open so that they could leave quickly if they wanted to.

The door what was now closed.

Jack grabbed the doorknob, his hand sweaty and shaking, and turned it. _Scratch that,_ he thought as dread settle over him, _the door that was now closed and … locked._

He yanked on the doorknob so hard his arm almost came out of the socket. "Fuck!"

"What?" He could see Kathy's eyes in the failing, gray light of his flashlight. She looked terrified and he felt about as big as a mouse. This was all his fault.

"The door is locked."

"Told you we're gonna die," Steve practically cried. "And if we don't, I'm going to kill you." He jabbed at Jack and the threat might have been more substantial if the point of Steve's cardboard sword hadn't bent in half when it collided with Jack's chest, right between the top two ribs of his skeleton costume.

"Look, we just need to calm down and think," Jack said, trying to stomp down the fear that was becoming all too real. "This is just a house. Nothing special."

Something creaked in the room they'd just left, followed by a crash, like the bookcase had finally given up and fallen over.

All three of them screamed and Jack turned back to the door, trying desperately to open it. Kathy and Steve, however, had different instincts and bolted for the stairs.

"No," Jack yelled after them. _Jesus, didn't anyone ever watch a horror movie? Never run up the fucking stairs._

Jack gave the door another tug, but froze when there was a second crash, this time glass, followed by a groan and footsteps. Footsteps that were heavy enough to make the wood floors moan and screech in protest. Footsteps that were heading for the foyer.

He turned so fast that his feet got tangled beneath him and he went crashing to the floor; pain flashed through his knees as what felt like a thousand splinters were driven through his sweatpants. The flashlight went flying, but he ignored it. "Guys, wait," he shouted as he ran up the stairs, certain he could feel the hot breath of something horrible creeping up his back. He really wished his overactive imagination hadn't given the something horrible thing claws and needle sharp teeth.

XxXxXxXxXx

Bobby was leading Angel and Jerry through the overgrown mess of the backyard when they heard something crash, followed by more screaming. Out of instinct, Bobby pulled out his gun.

"Bobby," Jerry hissed behind him as he tried to free the tail of his devil costume from a rosebush that he swore came out of nowhere and attacked him. "You can't pull out a gun here." He gave up the tug of war and tried smashing the bush with the heavy, industrial flashlight Bobby always carried in his trunk.

"What are you gonna do? Shoot Casper?" Angel asked, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"Force of habit," Bobby explained as he tucked the gun back into his waistband.

The sound of glass smashing carried through the broken windows and Jerry pushed at Bobby's shoulder. "Man, your little joke is going to get one of those kids hurt."

A new sound came from the house, a low moan and Jerry jumped, his tail coming free, causing him to topple onto Angel. "What the fuck was that?"

They heard it again and even Bobby had to admit it creeped him out.

"Bobby," Angel said, his voice grave and serious, "are you sure this house ain't haunted?"

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack made it to the top of the stairs, just barely. A few steps were crumpled and almost gave way, but he held onto the railing like his life depended on it.

A moan shook the floor and Jack closed his eyes and counted to ten. He made it through some of the scariest foster homes in Michigan and he was a Mercer and that meant he was tough and not some crybaby.

He made it to ten after skipping a few numbers here or there and he whispered as loud as he dared, "Steve. Kathy." He heard another muffled sound and something scrapping against the floor. He could only make out shapes and shadows. Some of the doors were open, leading to unknown rooms, but the light coming from them was faint at best.

He took a tentative step forward, hating to leave the security of the railing behind, but if he didn't move forward, they would all be stuck in that place until dawn or until whatever monster was lurking decided to have a snack.

"Steve. Kathy." He tried again, and again the darkness answered with more weird sounds and now he could swear he heard laughing.

_"Jack be nimble. Jack be quick …" _

The hair on Jack's arms stood on end … something was singing now. It was coming from behind one of the doors that was slightly ajar.

"Jack," he heard as he got closer to the door and he stopped. That sounded like Kathy and it came from the room. He had no idea where the courage came from, but he pushed the door all the way open and ran inside.

"Watch out," Kathy yelled but he couldn't tell where she was in the room. He spun around, but he had no idea what he was watching out for.

Something white moved in the darkness. He took a startled step back, tripping over a chair, as the thing floated at him.

_Shit_, he thought. _Ghost. A real fucking ghost._

The ghost suddenly lunged and barreled into him, awfully heavy for an apparition. "What the fuck?" Jack said as he brain tried to process what was going on.

The ghost started punching him, landing a fist in his ribs. Jack started to fight back, grabbing a fist full of fabric and yanking as hard as he could.

The sheet pulled away but Jack still couldn't make out who or what was attacking him. There was a faint click and suddenly a light flooded the space in front of Jack and it took him a second to realize the ghost had a flashlight. It took another second longer to realize just who had been haunting them that night.

"Boo," the apparition said and Jack punched him in the face.

Fucking Matt Wilcox.

XxXxXxXxXx

"You didn't think some dumb pig cop would scare us off, now did you, Mercer?" He laughed in Jack's face, his knee pressing down on his stomach, making it hard to take a breath.

"Get off me," Jack ground out through clenched teeth.

He heard scuffling in the corner and Matt turned the flashlight in that direction. Kathy was struggling with one of Matt's loser friends. He couldn't see Steve at all and hoped he wasn't lying somewhere, knocked unconscious.

"Let her go. This isn't funny anymore."

"Really? You don't find this funny?" Matt cackled, spit hitting Jack's face and he winced. "I think it's fucking hilarious. You should have seen your wussy friend run off like boogie man was after him. You may never see him again."

_Well,_ Jack thought, _at least that meant Steve got away._

"You proved whatever dumbass point you wanted to make, so let us go." Jack said, trying to sound reasonable. If it was just him, he'd try to use every dirty fighting trick his brothers taught him, but with Kathy there, he didn't want to risk them hurting her.

Turns out, he didn't really have to worry about Kathy. Finding a moment where her captor was distracted, she stomped as hard as she could on his foot and then drove her elbow back into his stomach. Startled, he let her go. Instead of running out of the room like any smart person would do, she threw herself on top of Wilcox, pulling his hair and screeching in his ear.

"Let him go!"

Matt whirled around and pushed her off him, knocking her to the ground.

"Don't you fucking hit her," Jack yelled as he launched himself off the floor, catching the jerk around his midsection and tackling him through the doorway into the hall like he was a fucking football player all of a sudden instead of a pack-a-day smoker who played guitar.

Jack stood, fists ready, staring down the shadowy blob that was the school bully. The guy that Kathy had kicked was now in the hall too, along with a third guy who was coming up the stairs, probably the one who knocked over the bookcases.

"You're outnumbered, Mercer," Matt said with a laugh as he lunged, starting the fight all over again.

In the back of his mind, Jack knew that no matter how many punches he landed, there really was no way he was going to win. He just hoped they didn't want to make this a felony and were just after a good beating. He landed a really nice punch on something that crunched and gave way beneath his fist when a strange howl sounded from behind them.

"What the …" Matt started to say, when a shadowy figure holding a bent sword above his head threw himself at the group.

"For Frodo!" it yelled before everyone realized a second too late just how close to the top of the stairs they'd gotten during their fight.

XxXxXxXxXx

Bobby trained the flashlight on the carnage. Three guys he'd never seen before, Jack, and Steve were all in a crumbled mass at the bottom of the stairs. There was no way that was a good thing.

A girl Booby had seen at the house a couple of times was standing at the top of the stairs, and it looked like she was crying. For a second, the thought of some thirteen year old girl crying struck more fear in Bobby than finding out just how much of Jack was broken beneath that mess at the bottom of the stairs.

A siren chirped outside and the house was flooded with flashing blue and red lights.

"Great," Bobby muttered, "the cops are here." Someone in the neighborhood must have heard some of the commotion coming from the house and made the call.

"Don't worry," Angel sighed, "cops love the Mercers."

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack, Steve and Kathy were all sitting in the back of the ambulance, their legs dangling over the bumper.

Lieutenant Green was talking to Bobby but Jack couldn't tell if it was a friendly conversation or not. Jack figured things were at least kind of going their way since they got to sit in the ambulance while Matt and his two dumb friends got to sit in the back of the squad car. Jack would much rather face Evelyn in the emergency room than in the police station.

The paramedics patched up what they could – for Steve that meant a scrape on his cheek and a bad scratch on his arm that didn't need stitches. Kathy was fine, aside from the scared half to death thing. And Jack was sporting a couple of wicked looking bruises from the fight and a more-than-likely-broken arm from the graceful descent down the stairs. At least he helped break everyone else's fall.

He looked over at Steve. "For Frodo?"

Steve shrugged. "Lord of the Rings. I panicked."

Kathy tugged her wig off her head and sighed. "No offense, Jack, but next year I'm staying home to hand out candy."

XxXxXxXxXx

It was well past midnight when Bobby and Jack finally walked through the front door to their house. As soon as Green gave the nod that they could leave, Angel and Jerry split to salvage what little romance they could that night. Green had a squad car drop Kathy and Steve off at their houses.

That left Bobby to get Jack to the emergency room.

It was a long fucking night when they finally wrapped up everything. Jack got a cool black cast and a pretty awesome story and Bobby got a splitting headache and a sinking feeling he would soon face the wrath of Evelyn.

She didn't disappoint. It was the full on performance – hands on hips, finger pointing, nostrils flaring. Real Academy Award stuff. Jack must have realized Bobby wasn't going to escape anytime soon and he threw his own performance her way, whimpering while cradling his broken arm.

"Oh, Jackie," she said as she rushed over to him, hugging him and kissing his forehead. Bobby rolled his eyes.

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack gave up on trying to get anything resembling sleep and snuck downstairs, careful to keep from alerting his mom. The TV would keep him company until the sun came up and he could sleep with the blinds open and the lights on and his radio blaring. Maybe that would keep the nightmares away.

Apparently he wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping. Bobby was up too, the TV on, volume turned way down as he stared at the home shopping network.

"Hey," Jack said.

"Hey," Bobby answered and scooted over. Jack took the spot, propping his legs up on the coffee table. "Sorry about your arm," his brother eventually said.

Jack shrugged and ran his thumb over the edge of the cast. He could deal with four weeks, it wasn't that big of a deal. "It's okay."

There was a rustling sound and Jack realized Bobby had something on the couch next to him. He looked over and saw a pillowcase that looked very familiar.

"Wait a sec …" he started as Bobby pulled out a candy bar and tore off the wrapper, popping the candy into his mouth.

"What?" Bobby mumbled through the mouthful.

"That's my candy."

"So?"

"You stole my candy?"

"You left it lying in the middle of the floor of that house. I found it," Bobby said as he stuffed a Snickers into his mouth.

"You almost get me killed and then you eat my candy. What is wrong with you?" He reached across his brother to grab the bag, but Bobby got to it first, holding it too far for Jack to reach.

"Finders keepers, kid."

Jack slouched down in his seat, sinking back into the couch, doing his best impersonation of a bratty, pouting kid. "You're an asshole."

Bobby gave a smug smile. "Merry Halloween, Jackiepoo."

"Whatever."

The End

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_A/N - This chapter is dedicated to Restrained Freedom and to Amber who both begged and pleaded with me to finish this story. Two years isn't that long of a wait, is it? Thanks to everyone for your patience - I didn't mean to leave everyone hanging for so long._

_ Happy Halloween!_


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